


Star Trek: Serapis - Preview

by Jonfucius



Series: Star Trek: Serapis [1]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 10:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20406040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonfucius/pseuds/Jonfucius





	Star Trek: Serapis - Preview

_[ONE]_  
_ Stardate 8460.4_  
_ Starfleet Advanced Design and Integration Bureau_  
Excelsior_-class Refit Design Board_

“You’re a promising young captain, Jovanivich. Why do you want to delay a captaincy and take over this board?”

Casimir Jovanivich looked to and smiled at the rear admiral (upper half) standing in the main design room with him. The cavernous space was empty, with dust cloths laid over the various terminals and control panels within the room. Jovanivich shrugged and stared the admiral in the eye. Jovanivich found that his grey eyes, which seemed to vary in intensity based on his emotional state, were an effective tool in any negotiation.

“Precedent, Admiral,” replied Jovanivich.

“What’s that?” the rear admiral asked, puzzled.

“Ninety-nine times out of one hundred, the senior commander or junior captain assigned to a construction project ends up receiving command of the ship he’s just poured several years of his life into. I know the _Excelsior_ Refit project may lead to a dead end or worse, just two or three starships before Starfleet moves on with a follow-on design.” Jovanivich’s passion was evident.

“The _Constitution_ refit has been a remarkable success. You’re being considered for command of the _Lexington_. . . ” started the Admiral, but Jovanivich spoke over him.

“That’s a little different, don’t you think, sir? After all, the refit began with an update to the flagship. Any captain offered that center seat would take it, no matter what class of ship it was.”

“You’re saying you could do a better job than Jim Kirk himself?”

“No, sir. Captain Kirk had an incredible senior staff and a deeply loyal crew. I could only hope to be so lucky.”

“Mm-hmm,” grumbled the admiral. Then he sighed and looked at the young captain. “Captain Jovanivich, the _Excelsior_-class Refit design board is yours. I want a list of required equipment and personnel on my desk by 0800 tomorrow morning.”

The two men shook hands. Jovanivich took an expansive look around the design studio, ran a hand through his close-cropped black hair, and uncovered a terminal with a chair.

And he began to type.

* * *

_[TWO]_  
_Stardate 8460.4 (That Same Time)_  
_Osan Starfleet Installation, Songtan, Korea_  
_Headquarters, III Marine Expeditionary Force, Starfleet Marine Corps_

Upon entering the enormous building that housed the headquarters and other operations of the III Marine Expeditionary Force, Major Richard Davis found that he was hopelessly lost. He consulted a nearby map terminal set into a wall and quickly found what he was looking for:

HQ, III MARINE EXPEDITIONARY FORCE, STARFLEET MARINE CORPS

Major Davis had been with the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit, a sub-unit of the III MEF, for three years under the excellent leadership of Lieutenant Colonel Franks, but Franks was being promoted out of his job. Davis, his vice-commander, was expecting to be given temporary command of the 31st until a suitable replacement could be found.

Davis wound his way through the maze of corridors, offices, and dead ends until he found the anteroom outside Lieutenant General Lewis Ridgeway’s office. Colonel Franks (Starfleet and Marine Corps protocol drops certain parts of honorifics in informal situations) was seated across from a young Andorian _zhen_ sergeant.

“How are you doing, Richard?” asked Franks as Davis entered the anteroom.

“Very good, sir. When is it our turn for sentencing?” asked Davis, lightly.

“General Ridgeway is finishing up a conference with some other muckity-muck, and then we find out who gets to replace me at the 31st,” explained Franks.

“It’s been a great three years, sir. Can’t believe they promoted you. I can think of at least three other light birds who deserve it more than you,” teased Davis. The easy rapport with Franks was one of many reasons Franks would be missed at the 31st MEU.

“I tried to make Starfleet see reason. They disagreed. Oh well.”

The doors leading into Ridgeway’s office flew open and they could hear the general’s voice booming from his desk. “When I ask you to present some figures to me, Brigadier General, I damn well mean ‘show me some goddamned figures’! I want them yesterday!”

The brigadier general in question quickly fled, especially after noticing he was being observed by a buck sergeant and two field-grade officers (Major Davis and Lieutenant Colonel Franks).

“Sergeant zh’Theed!” thundered Ridgeway.

“Yes, General?” replied zh’Theed, meekly.

“Send in my next appointment, please,” said Ridgeway, much more calm than he had been.

“Don’t worry about it, Sergeant. We can find our way in,” said Franks.

Less than five minutes later, Colonel Franks (promoted to full bird colonel) walked out as the new commandant of Marine cadets at Starfleet Academy. Two minutes after that, Davis walked out as Lieutenant Colonel Richard Davis, newly promoted commander of the 31st MEU.

* * *

_[THREE]_  
_Stardate 8460.4 (That Same Time)_  
U.S.S. Lexington_ NCC-1709_  
_Deck 7, Transporter Room_

“Bringing her in...now!” yelled the duty transporter chief, energizing the transporter systems from the port side of the control booth. Out on the pad, a feminine figure materialized, but not standing upright. She evidently had been laying prone on the planet’s surface, and her phaser rifle actually went off one more time after the transport cycle was complete. The shot blew out a series of relays in the grid, but the important fact was the “precious cargo” Captain Carter was worried about was safe again. Below her feet, the chief could feel the warp engines run up to full power as the refitted _Constitution_-class starship leapt into warp, away from the Romulan-occupied planetoid.

“Commander Tyler, you’re safely aboard the _Lexington_,” said the chief, soothingly.

Christine Tyler set the phaser rifle on the deck, stood up, and shook the young woman’s hand. “Thanks, Petty Officer.”

Captain Erin Carter stepped out from the starboard side of transporter control booth and down into the room. She dismissed the transporter chief and motioned for Commander Tyler to sit down on the pad. “What did you find out, Commander?” asked Carter.

“The attack and occupation of this planetoid is tactically similar to operations Vokar has organized in the past.” Aventeer Vokar, a rising officer within the Romulan admiralty, was soon becoming a major antagonist of the Federation.

“Did we miss him?” asked Carter.

“No, ma’am. Vokar was probably never here.”

Carter considered the situation for a moment. The Romulan Star Empire had been making random conquests over the last few months while the Federation and the Klingon Empire stared down the barrel of a seemingly eternal cold war. “Were you compromised, Commander?”

“Between the nebula hiding the _Lexington_’s energy output and my sensor shrouds, I think we made a clean getaway,” said Tyler.

Carter looked over at the destroyed transporter circuitry. “Were you being fired upon?”

“Romulans were closing on my position, but firing wildly. I decided on suppressive fire until the Lexington could beam me out. They couldn’t physically see me, and their tricorders were useless with the sensor shrouds.”

“Very good, Commander. We should have you to Starbase 12 very soon. Get some rest.” Carter turned to leave, but stopped and turned back to face Tyler. “Oh, I almost forgot, you received new orders from Starfleet Intelligence while you were gone. I haven’t read them, but they were marked Priority One/Eyes Only,” explained the senior captain of the _Lexington_.

“Thank you, ma’am.” And with that, Tyler walked out of the transporter room and made her way to her austere crew quarters, where she spent most of the next day asleep, resting and recuperating. Stealth insertion missions always took so much out of the young commander.

_Not as much as other people have taken out of you_, her inner voice said. Over the years of her special operations career, Christine Tyler had been shot a dozen times with directed energy weapons. She had been lacerated and stabbed with all manner of bladed weaponry. On one pre-Prime Directive world, she had been shot three times in the abdomen with a primitive firearm. She kept those scars as a reminder to herself to always watch herself.

Upon waking the following morning, Tyler opened the orders Captain Carter had mentioned in the transporter room. They were exceedingly brief: Tyler was being promoted to captain, and assigned to the Office of the Secretary of Defense for Acquisition and Sustainment, where she would be the program manager for the _Excelsior_-class Refit board. The next paragraph, however, was less thrilling: there would be one more stealth insertion along the Romulan border before the promotion and transfer.

The exigencies of service.


End file.
